by Leanne Davis
Except… perhaps Holden.
But then again, maybe he does. Maybe I’m the… the antithesis and remind him of his mother or something, not his wife, and that’s why he can stomach being with me.
All these thoughts send pangs of self-doubt through me. I’ve never experienced this before, and I can’t let it keep going on.
Maybe I’ll do what the town wants. Push him toward his wife’s family and the home he should have made with her. Get them talking and interacting again. I’ll have served my purpose then, huh? Then maybe he can begin truly grieving. Move past his guilt and to whatever the next stage is for him.
But whatever that is, it’s not being with me.
HOLDEN
Relief floods me when I glance up from fixing a feeding trough to glimpse Alicia’s car. I’m unclear where we left things and if she’d show up here today. I wanted her to. Going into town to see her… felt way too hard. I felt like Nemo entering a fishbowl. Everyone knew I’d gone into the main bed and breakfast in town, and in that one act… there could be no doubt who I’d gone to see… and spent the night with. I’m not shy. I used to never care about such things as wagging tongues of gossip. But then I met Harper and I never wanted anyone to think badly of her. With Harper, I never spent the night and behaved like a gentleman, something that was new for me.
With Alicia, it’s been so easy… out here at my barn-room, away from prying eyes, even Ray can’t see the barn from his house or who comes and goes. Plus she’s never stayed the night, going back to the B and B without discussion.
But the minute she didn’t show up, I high tailed it into town. I went after her, even though we aren’t actually a couple… And I’ve had a pit in my stomach ever since, realizing that everyone in town, including Harper’s parents, has now confirmed I’m sleeping with Alicia. What was once only a suspicion is now a certainty.
But Alicia showing up here makes me not go to the bar. Not douse myself in way too much alcohol. Not feel as if I can’t make it through the night. Her presence has helped me a lot. But witnessing her the other night was a smack in the face. It’s not just about me. This includes another person’s feelings. Feelings that I’m messing with because of my grief. I didn’t mean to. But she’s hard for me to resist. She’s like no one I’ve ever been around. She’s sharp and polished, dresses to kill, yet there are glimpses of softness and warmth that were a surprise at first, but the more I get to know her, the more they’re not. At all.
“Hey,” she says as I stride up to where she’s shutting the door to her car. I pull my work gloves off as I get near to her. I kiss the side of her face, almost pausing because it’s become a habit. A usual way to greet her. Which is a weird way to greet anyone, unless they are your loved one. Spouse. Companion. Girlfriend. Or wife.
“Hey.” I cringe and step back, glancing down at my boots. It rained last night and all the grounds are a mess. The boots I work in aren’t the ones I ever come to town in. These ones are crusted in mud and manure. Today I helped Ray with a bunch of clean up in one of the pastures, and I don’t want to get my muck or sweaty stench on her. Alicia has on one of her fancy-ass black suits—she owns a dozen of them, each one cut just a bit different. She had to show me, because I would have never guessed. I notice her black heels in this soft, muddy ground. There isn’t even gravel from where she parks to the door that goes up to my humble room. “Your shoes will get ruined. And I stink.”
There’s something sad and soft to the look in her eye. She shakes her head. “No. It’s okay. It’s just mud. And you don’t stink.” She tries to give me a winsome, flirty smile, but it falls flat. Like the other night, something is wrong. Probably still more of the same. “And don’t you know, us city-girls love a sweaty man in tight, worn jeans.”
I roll my eyes and slap my leather work gloves against my thigh. “That’s if they’re in a calendar, not fresh off a ranch full of cows. Distinct difference between staring at it and smelling it.”
“We… we could not be more different.”
“Nope. Perhaps that’s what works so well for us?”
She suddenly steps forward and grabs me with her hands, bringing me toward her and wrapping her arms around my shoulders to cling to my back. Her black suit presses against all my grime and sweat and mud. It’s going to ruin it. She’s so damn tall, especially with heels on, she can hold me to her, face to face. Shocked, I don’t react for a moment. “Seattle, Georgia soil and cow is going to ruin this fancy-ass stuff you wear.”
“It’ll wash. Everything can be washed. This isn’t a big deal. Quit holding me away from you. If I wanted to stay off you, I wouldn’t have stepped toward you.” I finally concede and set my hands on her waist, cringing at all the nice material under my dirty, clammy palms. I don’t know what her shirt is made out of, but it’s soft and smooth. Her curves are subtle and inviting under it, but she’s clinging and holding me as if… well, as if it’s the last time she’s going to.
“What’s going on?”
She leans back and cups my face. “Nothing.”
Her gaze is darting all over my face… for what? To memorize it? That’s exactly what it seems like. My face is held still now, as each of her hands grips my cheeks. She rises a few inches on her tiptoes, touching her lips to mine. Her mouth softly brushes my lips before she tugs my face to bring me closer, her mouth devouring mine. I love that about her. She’s as aggressive toward me as she wants to be. She’s comfortable taking charge… or sometimes completely pliant and docile. There’s so much I like about her. Which is both shocking as it is strange for me.
Finally she stops kissing my mouth and moves to the side of it, my cheek, and then her kisses trail off and she’s hugging me. Okay, this is really starting to feel like a goodbye. I push on her waist to gain some space so I can study her face. “What is this?”
She leans her forehead on my shoulder, so again, I can’t see her face. She mumbles, “Harper’s mom figured out who I was in town today. She sat down and…”
Startled my entire body jolts. Damn. That’s odd and weird and hard, and instantly I feel guilty that Tammy spoke to a woman I’m sleeping with… who isn’t her daughter. But I’m not cheating! Harper is dead. Gone. Buried forever. And I’m still here. Somehow, unfortunately, here I am. This woman, in my arms now, is so the opposite of Harper and yet, she is the only person that has made me feel almost like I might live through what happened. “Tammy, what? I can’t believe it. What did you… what did she say to you? Did she know…?”
“Yes. She realizes we’re sleeping together. Though she didn’t come out and say that.”
She sighs and shoves back from me. “I know. You feel like you’re cheating on the woman’s daughter. What she said, however, is she… misses you. She wants you to come see them. She’s worried about you. And considering her daughter died, maybe throw her a bone and let her know you’re okay. There were comments made that she thinks you are like a son to her and she lost both of you…”
“Why tell you any of this?”
“I was there. I don’t think she was thinking totally clearly.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
“You have a house?”
That damn house. I nod. “Yeah, I have a house. We lived it in only six months when she died.”
“And your mom had to go get your stuff. Your mom who isn’t like Harper’s family, and you were the bad boy who married the good girl. Always trying to prove your worth to them…”
“She said that?”
“Not in so many words. Am I right?”
I step back from Alicia. I kick at a pebble near my toe. “Yeah. That’s right. I wasn’t fit to polish her shoes, let alone marry her. But she loved me for some reason. I would have risen up to be whatever she needed. I was trying…”
“And then a freak, terrible accident killed her and you stopped. Everything. You were no longer the proper, hard-working son-in-law you’d strived to be. You left the house you built and family you’d
made in Harper’s relations. You lost everything when she died because you believe she’s the only reason you had or deserved anything of value.”
Her words leave me feeling like my shirt has shrunk and is too tight around my neck. I want to break free and breathe. I can’t do this. I can’t dissect what is real or not real. I don’t know if I do all that, I just know it hurts to see Tammy and the fact that Harper is dead stabs me in the gut.
She turns from me. “You still love Harper, obviously. I think I could love you. Right or wrong, there it is. And you’ve done nothing wrong, but that’s just the way I feel. And for those reasons, I’ve asked River Runs Wild for a replacement to finish with representation here. I’m going to go back to Seattle as soon as I can.”
“What?”
Alicia’s words gained momentum as she spoke, and by the end my brain wasn’t following. She starts with telling me she loves me and ends with she’s leaving forever? All my Harper thoughts and how I was raised jumbles up in my head. I’m flabbergasted, confused. I can’t believe Alicia’s saying all these things. But then… I can. She was never staying, that was the appeal of her. The reason I could do this. The only reason I could do this.
I like Alicia. I love Harper. Therein lies the difference. Though I like Alicia being here, I didn’t know how lonely I was until I started spending time with her. Her touch, her comfort, her smile, her words… all if it helped blunt the sadness and frozen numbness I was mired in before she showed up.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“Yet. You don’t want me to leave yet. That’s not enough. That’s just not… enough. I will end up hurt. And if I leave now, it’s not you abandoning me, it’s me choosing to remove myself from this. I need to. I can’t… I can’t be second to Harper. The town doesn’t really want me for you anyway.”
“The town? Hell, Alicia, you can’t think I care what the town thinks or wants about me. About this. About us.”
She reaches up and pats her hand to the side of my face. “Us? There isn’t an ‘us’ how I want it. And yeah, I think it matters to you.”
“You can’t just go. You can’t let me stop you from doing your job. You love your job. It’s what you do for fun, even. I can’t be the cause of you not finishing it.”
“We’re almost there. The water park and its adjoining resort are soon going to get approval and be built. So brace yourself for a rich, thriving Love from all the tourism it will bring. It’s literally dotting a few i’s and crossing some t’s. There is another lawyer on staff, below me, who can finish it up. He’s half as good as me, but good enough to do this.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“I want to go now before I think I don’t want to. Right now? I kind of want to get out of here.”
She rises on her tiptoes and her lips find mine. For a long while our lips touch and meld together until she pulls back, kissing my cheek as she takes her hands off me. Her arms slide through my hands, until I’m grasping at air. “It’s for the best… my best.”
I nod. I wish she were wrong. I don’t want her to go, to have to articulate how I feel. I want to keep doing everything exactly as we are together. But I can’t do that to her. Not now. After realizing it’s hurting her and making it worse on her. To the point she’s letting someone else finish off her project. I guarantee she’s never done that before.
“Alicia… you want this, right here and now, to be the end of us?”
“It’s how I need it to be.” Her head hangs down. She doesn’t act as bold and sure as I’ve known her to be. The thing that irritated and compelled me to her. I miss it now.
“Do you regret this?”
“I don’t. I just regret it has to end. I regret it has nowhere else to go. But I’m ready to let that fact be.”
“When will you leave?”
“A few days.”
“Let me take you to the airport.”
“That sounds harder than anything. And way too dramatic. Come on, we don’t need some overdramatized goodbye in the airport. We can just do it now. Say goodbye. See ya. It was great. Had a marvelous time—”
I step forward, grab her and start kissing her, stealing the words she attempts to say by taking the air she needs to speak them. I push her against her rental car and she’s pliant as a wet noodle under me. I hold her up as I kiss her and kiss her, until finally I hug her to me, my lips trailing off into her thick, bright hair.
She nods and clings to me, not saying a word. I get it. She gets it. No more needs to be said, except it feels like everything should be said. I can’t stand she’ll just go. But if this will keep hurting her, what other choice is there?
She pushes at me, and I let her go this time, tears streaming down her face. My heart grows heavy, but not broken. I’m disappointed she’s going, sad she won’t be there, but it’s nothing like the gut-twisting, death-like heartache of Harper.
I simply step back as she starts her car, shifts it into reverse, glances over her shoulder, and backs out. She tosses one last look my way, and I lift my hand in a lame, sad, limp wave. Pathetic. But that’s all I seem to have in me as of now. She’s right to end this. To go. I’m using her in ways that aren’t fair. I use her to feel better, to have company and sex and understanding. I use her for friendship and to stave off the crippling loneliness that has filled me. She makes facing Lover’s Landing now tolerable, almost okay, even. Which is crazy. How can I ever be okay with Lover’s Landing, where I met the love of my life? And then lost her.
But Alicia is paying the price for that when all she’d done was try to be my friend.
Her taillights disappear down the road, and I’m left all alone. A breeze rustles the oak trees next to me. The land is quiet, aside from the far off moos and shuffle of cattle filling my ears. With a sigh, I turn and head up toward my barn-room. All alone. Depressed… again. I flop down, close my eyes, and it all replays. For hours I think and obsess over Harper, then me alone, then Alicia. It finally fades when I fall into a late-night stupor… and then I hear my alarm.
I groan at the sound, telling me to get up and go to Lover’s Landing.
And then I take my damn phone with the alarm going off and throw it across my bed where it hits the wall and plunks down to the floor. There’s a soft crack of plastic, but it at least stops waking me.
And for the first time in over a year, I go back to sleep.
I missed my routine. When I come in Lover’s Landing two mornings later, Betty has Harper’s coffee sitting there ready for me. She’s serving a blonde lady before her when she sees me come in, and her gaze dims when we make eye contact. When I step up next in line she hands me Harper’s coffee cup and then starts on mine. I don’t know why she waits to make mine; I don’t drink it so why bother to make it hot? When I pointed it out one day, she shrugged and said perhaps one of these days I wouldn’t come in. None of it makes sense, since the drink I’d want to drink is the cold one that has Harper’s name on it, but Betty never makes that one fresh. Perhaps this is her ritual to help her deal with her sadness over mine.
I think she hoped that one day I wouldn’t come in. To believe I’ll somehow be cured? Over Harper? It’s not like that. It’s a cellular level kind of loss. I might breathe and eat and crave water to stay alive, but my heart isn’t warm or into being alive. And so, there isn’t a magic cure. If there was I’d do it or take it. I thought perhaps alcohol might be it for a while, as it made the pain hazy and distant, until it wore off and all the harsh feelings would again come crashing down over me.
I pay Betty and take the cups. I turn and stop dead. The table is empty, no one is there. Well… of course. I knew it would be. It’s the first… the first day in so long that table has been without Alicia. It’s a big, empty four-person table. It stabs at me. It looks lonelier than I remember. Different. Someone bumps into me, drawing me from my thoughts. I glance back, aware, and the guy grabbing a napkin behind me doesn’t even say excuse me. I scowl but then step out of the way and head toward
my table. I flop down, set the cups on the table, and glare at the chair across from me. It’s empty. And ugly. And… and, damn it. Why couldn’t she just stay? It wasn’t that big a hardship to her to come get coffee in the mornings. She loves coffee and chooses a different one almost every day. Who does that? Who changes it up? Who doesn’t have a preferred drink? Just one more thing I didn’t get about her. But that was some of the fun of Alicia.
I groan and nearly take my forehead and bash it on the edge of the table. I’m thinking about my time here with Alicia… not my time with Harper. Yet I know, to my gut level, I still love Harper. I’m not over the loss of her from my life or our plans for a future.
But I miss Alicia.
It feels terrible in Lover’s Landing without her. In a way, it’s worse than without Harper. How can both things be true? I’m confused and unsure and unable to figure out what to do.
I do this torturous feeling routine for another week. I can’t get used to the stab in my heart when I first glimpsed the table without Alicia there. How could I have gotten so used to her so fast? How could I not? She’d been so easy to be around. So interesting and kind and wonderful. Pushy and outgoing, instead of obnoxious and annoying.
I shake out of my scowling reverie when the chair opposite me—Alicia’s chair, Harper’s chair, damn it’s so confusing in my muddled brain—is pulled out. I start to snarl when I realize it’s freaking Harold Connelly of all people. I shut my mouth as my surprise outweighs my dismay.
“Just got news the permits passed for that damn water park and resort. It’s going to be clogging up our town with new tourists and an ugly, damn eyesore leaving it.”
My heart shifts. She did it. Alicia finished it. But she’s not even here to revel in it. To celebrate. I’m not sure she’d want to celebrate with me anyway, but I’d still be glad for her.
“Well, that’s going to bring you some new business.”